Perpetuating the Lines
by Sela McGrane
Summary: Just as Hermione is finishing up at Hogwarts, she and her beloved Professor McGonagall get into an argument which builds to a duel. More than a year later, still angry at one another, the Ministry passes a Marriage Law, and both are rather dismayed when they are paired together.
1. Chapter 1

**In a review some time ago I got a challenge to write an HG/MM around the marriage, in which our favorite ladies were forced to procreate rather quickly. I decided to give it a go - I know I've got several still open, and I'm working on other ones that I've not even posted, but, well, here you go.**

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><p>"Is it true, Miss Granger, that you were one of a set of twins?" the grumpy looking Ministry official asked the recently graduated, twenty one year old woman in question.<p>

"Yes, my twin did not survive our birth, however," Hermione replied, unsure of they'd even found out about that. Merlin, she'd never even mentioned it to Harry and Ron. She'd told George, after Fred died in the battle at Hogwarts; she knew, to some extent, how it felt to lose someone you'd shared a womb with. They'd cried together for hours.

"Very good," the older man said. "Then you would be ideal to match with someone who is in need to furthering their line more proactively."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, confused. She'd gotten an Owl this morning to report to the Ministry at once. She'd still been in bed when it came. Assuming it was actually important, she'd jumped out of bed, thrown on the day prior's clothes, and apparated directly to the Ministry atrium. She hadn't even had her morning tea…

"Did you not read this morning's _Daily Prophet_?"

"I was still sleeping when your summons arrived!" Hermione snapped. "I hardly had time to brush my bloody teeth, let alone sit down to a quiet breakfast with the morning paper!"

"Oh, well, then you've not heard?"

"Heard _what_?" the young woman asked with trepidation.

"The Marriage Enforcement Law passed last evening," the Ministry man elaborated. "The Ministry will now be pairing off eligible witches and wizards, in interest of perpetuating the wizarding population. It was ever so devastated by the war, you see…"

Hermione winced. She'd known the final vote for that damn law was upcoming, but she'd not realized it was last night. "How are the matches to be decided?" she inquired, knowing there was no getting out of this, and thus, she might as well get as much information as possible."

"Well, we take into account certain preferences you might have…"

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters, would you prefer to be paired to someone of the opposite, or same gender?" the man inquired.

"Same, if humanly possible," Hermione stated, shuddering at the notion, as a lesbian, of being paired with a bloody man.

"Name three features that you would prefer your partner have, physically," the official ordered, holding his quill poised to write.

Well, at least they were being considerate of attraction, Hermione mused. "I'd like a woman who is physically active; I can't abide laziness. I'd like a woman who is my elder by at least a couple of years. And, um… oh I don't know, make her taller than me."

"And personality wise?" another prompt came. "Three items?"

"Intelligence first and foremost," the young witch quickly answered. "Then I suppose I'd want her to be someone who values privacy, and that she be good with children. I have no desire to raise a brood of children alone, and as the purpose here is to procreate, I think it's important that my partner not be someone totally opposed to the existence of potential offspring."

"Interesting."

"What?"

"I know exactly who you should marry, and I'm going to send the recommendation right away!" the man squealed, delighted.

"And who would that be?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Oh, the one woman in the wizarding world who both needs multiple heirs, and everyone on the team deciding the matches has been terrified at the seemingly impossible task of finding someone compatible for."

"I ask again, who?"

"I can't say, officially, until I've spoken to the others," the old man whispered, "but I will give you a hint."

"Alright then..," Hermione said, waiting on baited breath despite herself. This could be either really good, or really bad.

"She's well known for two things; her temper, and her prowess in the field of Transfiguration."

Hermione knew at once to whom he was referring. This was bad. _Bad_ bad. "McGonagall," she whispered, not even doubting her guess.

The official said nothing; just smiled at her. Once upon a time, she might have been relieved, or at least comfortable with the notion of being forced - if one must be forced into such a thing - to marry Minerva McGonagall, but she and her former Professor had not parted on the best of terms. In fact, Hermione thought, cringing, there could hardly have been a worse way to leave her once favorite teacher than the way she had. However, the Headmistress of Hogwarts was not the only one with a temper.

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><p>Minerva McGonagall stared at the parchment in her hand, incredulous. She'd spent the last week adjusting to the notion of being married off; she'd been married before, so the idea wasn't totally foreign. Her late wife, Amelia Bones, might have cuffed her ear for the string of vulgarity that had just come out of her mouth, upon reading the name <em>Hermione Granger<em> on the roll of parchment which told her exactly whom she was being forced to marry.

_Anyone_ but her!

The last time she'd seen Miss Granger, the two had gotten into an argument over the lack of education available in the wizarding world for muggleborn students under the age of eleven. Minerva believed that it was a good idea to start a school for muggleborns under eleven, to help the adjustment go smoother, and help prevent all the pureblood prejudices which had largely contributed to to the recent war. She'd spoken to Hermione about it, thinking the intelligent young woman would support the idea wholly, only to be shocked when her star pupil had argued against it, saying that if the purebloods were going to take muggleborns away from their parents even younger than eleven, then they might as well just kidnap them as infants, and save the families the agony of hardly knowing each other. The rant had escalated from there.

Minerva would have been quick to forgive her protege's outburst, because she did understand that point of view as well, except for the part of the story when Hermione drew her wand and hit her Professor with a stinging hex right in the chest, asking if she'd felt the pain; if she had a heart to hurt.

Of course, Minerva had bloody well felt the pain but if she had a heart was a bit on the debatable side at that point. Before she could think, her temper overtook her, and she returned the favor, sending her own stinking hex back at Hermione. At _that_ point, it had turned into a full out duel in the middle of the courtyard, in plain sight of dozens of people. In the end, much to her surprise and wounded ego, Hermione had disarmed her. There was no lasting physical damage, but she wasn't sure she would ever be able to forgive her former pupil for standing there, lording over as Minerva had knelt there on the ground, and said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Now who's the better witch, Pureblood?"

While calling someone a pureblood was certainly not considered vile, as someone being called a _mudblood_ might be, the tone which Miss Granger had used indicated equal disdain for her existence.

"We'll kill each other in a bloody week," Minerva muttered to her office wall.

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><p><strong>Gunna go keep writing but had to post this much. Will be publishing in 1k (give or take) sections, split between one Hermione point of view, and one Minerva point of view. PLEASE REVIEW!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! I am floored with the reception this fic is getting. Here's another update, and I'll get back to work right now with the third. I honestly have no idea how long this will be, but whatever the length, I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Thank you so much!**

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><p>Hermione stood stiffly at the gates of Hogwarts, working up the nerve to cross the threshold. She knew she owed the Headmistress an apology, but her feelings on the matter of which they'd argued had not changed. She was so angry that McGonagall had presumed that family didn't matter to muggleborns - that they would be okay being molded into good little witches and wizards before they were old enough to even think of embracing where they'd come from. Granted, her opinion on the matter was biased. After the war ended, she'd gone to fetch her parents; when they'd come to after she'd restored their memories that simply asked her why she bothered - that her life was with her kind now, and they wanted no further part of it.<p>

She'd been devastated. Hermione had gone to war to protect them; to protect all muggles from what terror Voldemort would have surely reigned down on them had he won the fight - and they had dismissed her sacrifice outright. Her parents had given up on her, when she had given up everything for them. When she asked the question of why, the only answer to be found had been because they didn't know her anymore, so how could that love her, or appreciate what she'd done to ensure their continued existence.

"Planning on loitering all day, Granger?" a sharp, accented voice asked, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Or will you come in?"

Hermione huffed. Not even a 'Miss' with the Granger. Yes, she was obviously still mad. "I suppose that depends on if you're prepared to grant me entry, McGonagall."

"I don't see how it can be avoided," Minerva stated. "If we are to be married."

"An idea you are obviously not keen on," Hermione countered, frowning.

"Well, I would certainly have preferred to be partnered to someone who didn't think so very little of me," the older woman spat. Nonetheless, she jerked her head, indicating the Hermione should follow her back up to the castle. "Alas, I don't imagine you are any more thrilled with this than I, so that notion does bring me some measure of comfort."

"My lack of happiness has led to yours?" Hermione glared. "How typical."

"Typical?!" the Headmistress shouted, rounding on her wife-to-be. "For eight bloody years I have you everything you needed; food, shelter, knowledge, support, advice, lo -"

"Love?" Hermione laughed. "How can you claim to love me when you didn't even know me well enough to see how losing my parents' loyalty because I came to this bloody school - "

The younger woman turned away, choking back the tears that had begun to fall. Right now, she craved her mum's embrace. She wanted to run to her father, and tell him how right he'd been about how the wizarding world would take her ideals and stomp them into dust. She wanted to go back to the day this woman had showed up at her door, and tell her to go back to where she'd come from and how utterly uninterested she was about learning anything about magic.

"Hermione…" Minerva said softly after a moment. "I am sorry about how your parents reacted. It does, sadly, happen all too often. It was my hope, last time we met, that you and I could come up with a way to prevent it from occurring as much. My thought was to introduce families to the Wizarding World sooner, but perhaps, if you'd be willing, together we could work out a better option."

The younger witch sniffled, but smiled a little. It was an olive branch, which was more than she deserved. "I'm sorry I hexed you," she muttered. "It was out of line, even if I was upset."

Minerva nodded. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation in my quarters?"

"Yeah, alright then," Hermione agreed, moving to follow the woman she was set to marry.

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><p>Minerva, in her long life, had never met anyone who so infuriated her as Hermione Granger. The young woman could warm her heart with a glance, and send her off into a temper tantrum with a word. It was impossible to deal with, and even if they were on the path of making peace over their last argument, it was all but inevitable that they would fight again.<p>

If they were to be married, and have children together, then at the very least they needed to learn to keep their disputes quiet and private. She would not raise her children in a hostile environment. "We cannot duel away our differences in the future, Hermione," she said, voicing her thoughts as they stepped into her quarters. "Not around… our children."

"Gods," Hermione chuckled. "I am talking to Minerva McGonagall about having babies together. Harry and Ron are going to flip."

"You've not told them yet?" Minerva inquired.

"For once, they were paying more attention to the news than I was. Both boys left England as soon as the vote had been passed," Hermione explained. "Harry off to France to marry Ginny, and Ron off to America to marry Lavender Brown."

"What of your other friends?"

"Neville and Luna married right after the battle, so they didn't have to worry about anything."

"What of Mr. Malfoy?" Minerva asked. "You two got… close during your final year here at Hogwarts."

"I got an Owl from him this morning," Hermione sighed. "He says he got paired with Daphne Greenglass, and Draco seems alright with that. He always expected to have his marriage arranged, so for him, it was just a change of who did the arranging."

"Back on topic," the older witch said, nodding. "I suppose we have a wedding to plan."

"A life to plan, more like," came an exasperated sigh. "Let's start with your expectations."

"Well, I'm far too old to actually go about having babies," Minerva began. "Would you prefer to use transfiguration and have children that are biologically ours, or would you prefer to adopt war orphans?"

"I think I'd prefer to have the children, but I'm open to adoption as well," Hermione replied. "Either, or both, I suppose."

"Are you willing to move back to Hogwarts?"

"As you are Headmistress and I'm certainly not about to tell you to retire, that seems to be the only option available to me," Hermione frowned.

"We could buy a house in Hogsmeade," Minerva offered, understanding that Hermione may not be comfortable returning, so soon after being a student, as wife to the Head of Hogwarts."

"Really?" the younger woman asked, perking up. "I mean, it's not that I don't adore Hogwarts, but I've only just…"

"Left," Minerva finished. "I understand. Of course, I wouldn't want you to just move into the Manor - McGonagall Manor, that is - as it is in the Highlands and I would rarely be able to be there with you. I realize this is not a marriage that includes love, but I would like to be an active part of our childrens' lives."

"Love can be found in many ways," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Even if our marriage is held together by nothing more than the children we have, it will include love, as neither of us would feel anything less than that for them. Perhaps, in time, we could learn to care for each other as well."

"Perhaps," the older woman replied softly, fervently praying that her former pupil was right.

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><p><strong>As of now, I've gotten nearly 30 reviews, in the space of 5 hours. You guys have seriously made my day! Keep it up! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I believe this is what people call "on a roll". Enjoy a third chapter! In one day! I think I'm going to give up for the night, but I'll pick it up again tomorrow if I have some time. **

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><p>"Hermione Granger, do you accept Minerva McGonagall to be your lawfully wedded wife from this day forward, until such time as you have together produced no less than two heirs, at which point this Ministry shall null and void your bonding?" a stout looking woman asked.<p>

The young woman in question, wearing a simple white gown she'd transfigured from a dress she'd bought for a Ministry ball six months ago, internally groaned at the Ministries modified wedding vows. Outwardly, she forced a small small. "I will."

"And do you, Minerva McGonagall, accept Hermione Granger to be _your_ lawfully wedded wife from this day forward, until such time as you have together produced no less than two heirs, at which point this Ministry shall null and void your bonding?"

Hermione stifled a giggle as she saw Minerva roll her eyes. "I will."

"Then I declare you lawfully wedded," the Ministry woman stated. "You may kiss."

Hermione gulped. She'd totally spaced this part of a wedding ceremony. She and Minerva had talked late into the night yesterday, ironing out the details of how to present themselves for the wedding; being that they were both highly public figures, and despite their own lack of enthusiasm about the Marriage Law, they needed to support the newly formed Ministry. For all Kingsley had done for the Order during the war, the agreed that they owed it to him to put on a good face.

They had also talked about what the next few years would look like. The Ministry expected them to get pregnant pretty quickly, so they knew that they'd have to begin trying for a baby pretty quickly. Being that Hermione had been a twin, they were hopeful for a set of healthy twins of their own, at which point they could in theory be married, and have said marriage null and voided within a year. At that point, they'd split custody of the children. If they did not have twins, then it would be two years, give or take, but with the same end result.

In all of their discussion, they had not breached the subject of being intimate. Hermione, for her part, kept hoping Minerva would bring it up. In retrospect, she expected that Minerva had hoped the same. It was an awkward thing to bring up for them. There was a considerable age gap, and Hermione had very recently been Minerva's student. While they'd fought as equals at the end of the war, it didn't change that their relationship had been something akin to paternal for seven years.

Minerva was the first to move forward, though Hermione could see the uncertainty in her eyes. The only thing they really knew of each other regarding sexuality was that they both preferred the company of other women. "Well," she whispered. "Shall we?"

"Um, yeah," Hermione stammered. "I guess."

"Just relax, my dear," Minerva urged gently, lacing a slim, soft hand behind her neck, fingers tangling into curly brown hair.

Hermione let out a sigh, the older woman's easy touch sending a shiver down her spine. "Humm…" she muttered, leaning in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her lips met Minerva's, and despite having never kissed this woman before, she felt as if she was greeting a longtime lover, not those of a nearly perfect stranger.

What could have simply been a cold peck on the lips quickly morphed into a chaste, yet soul stirring kiss. Hermione thought she might have just kept right on kissing those lips if the owner had not pulled away after a moment. Hazel eyes looked up to meet curious looking emerald ones. "Oh my," Hermione whispered.

"Indeed," Minerva replied with a soft smile. "Shall we return...home?"

"Uhuh…" came a squeak from her mouth.

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><p>They arrived at Hogwarts, directly into Minerva's personal quarters, with a muffled POP of side along apparition. The older woman let go of her...wife… as soon as they fully materialized. While Hermione has certainly been receptive to her kiss, Minerva didn't want to push her former pupil too far. Hermione had indicated that she would not be ovulating for another week, so she did not expect that they would have sex tonight, though they had already agreed to share a bed from the first night, if only to help make them more comfortable with each other.<p>

They'd gone to dinner together after their four 'o'clock nuptials. They'd talked about Hermione's plans for the future, aside from their marriage. Minerva had been surprised to learn that her former pupil had spent the last year working not for the Wizarding Ministry, but rather for the muggle one. She was working as an Undersecretary for the Muggle Prime Minister, and hoping to convince him to change things so that more than just the Minister of the time is aware of the Wizarding world. She knew it wouldn't go well to have the whole world know, but if at least part of the cabinet were informed, she felt that it would allow for a support system for muggle families to develop in time, so that muggleborn witches and wizards would not be forced to maintain the statute of secrecy as strictly as it currently was.

After that, they'd agreed to return to the school. The had discussed just strolling down Diagon Alley for a while, but as well known as they both were, they were bound to encounter reporters - Rita Skeeter, for example. Neither of them were in any mood to deal with the likes of _her_.

"Would you be interested in a game of chess?" Minerva asked her bride, gesturing to the set she kept set up in her small, personal library.

"With tea?" Hermione inquired.

"I was thinking of a tumbler of firewhisky," Minerva admitted. "But tea is of course an option as well."

"No, I think you're on the right mark," the younger witch admitted. "I'll take firewhisky as well."

"As you wish."

Ten minutes later, the pair were seated in opposite armchairs, chessboard between them and tumblers of firewhisky in their respective hands. They played several games of chess; Hermione won two of the games, but the balance shifted in Minerva's favor as she pulled a close win on their fifth. By then, it was getting late into the evening, and they agreed to get ready to bed.

They agreed a lot, Minerva noticed. Hermione was, in fact, the most agreeable person she'd ever shared living space with. When Minerva had said she preferred playing black, Hermione had nodded and moved a white pawn two spaces ahead. When they both began yawning, Hermione asked if she'd prefer to use the shower first, offering to make the trip down to the four common rooms to check on the students. Minerva had mentioned to Hermione the previous day that she still, as Headmistress, checked the dorms before she went to bed. In this case, she'd told Hermione to go ahead and shower first, while she checked the students, and the younger witch had been perfectly agreeable to that as well.

As the settled into the large canopy bed, both showered and in modest sleeping attire, they bid each other sweet dreams, but neither made any move to instigate _marital relations_. Minerva was fine with that - expected it, even. What she had not expected was to wake up some hours later to find Hermione resting her head on her chest, with the younger woman's arm wrapped comfortably around the elder's waist.

Perhaps there was hope of this being a happy marriage after all, the dreary eyed Headmistress mused as she drifted back to sleep.

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><p><strong>Please review (more)! You guys have been amazing today! Thank you so much for your support!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**And chapter 4... don't expect three chapters a day regularly. :P Just one today. Enjoy!**

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><p>Hermione woke, deeply inhaling a familiar scent. It was more than a minute later when she realized that the scent was familiar because it belonged to Professor McGonagall, and it was thirty seconds later that it hit her than she was smelling it first thing as she woke because she was <em>cuddling<em> with said witch. Instinct made her pull away quickly, not recalling why she might be curled up in a bed with the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

And then, she remembered; she remembered the fact that the evening before, they'd married. "Sorry," she whispered, as her rushed movement stirred Minerva from her own slumber.

"It's fine…" Minerva muttered, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Morning."

Hermione tried to make up for her impulse reaction by leaning forward again and pecking Minerva on the cheek. She just wanted to assure the older witch that it wasn't _her_… it was just an adjustment to be had. They needed to make the best of this situation, after all.

"Has working for the muggles totally stripped you of the passion I recall you to have?" Minerva inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione's jaw slackened. Either Minerva was trying to bait her into an argument first thing in the morning, or the older woman was teasing her. Perhaps even _flirting_. "Well…" she said slowly, eyes narrowing in determination.

If the gasp that came from the Headmistress' mouth a moment later was any indication, Minerva was quite surprised when Hermione lunge forward and kissed her soundly on the lips. As the older witch's mouth opened in surprise, Hermione pushed her tongue forward, and moved her fingers through long locks of ebony hair, coaxing her former Professor into a decidedly passion _filled_ snog, which went on for several minutes before Hermione pulled away with a smirk.

"Better?" she asked.

"Huh?" Minerva said blankly.

Hermione grinned. "Interested in breakfast?"

"Breakfast?"

"You know, food that is generally consumed in the mornings?" Hermione elaborated, trying not to laugh. "The first meal of the day?"

"Oh," Minerva sighed, shaking her head. "Of course. Would you prefer to eat here or go down to the Great Hall?"

"I'm fine with eating in the Great Hall," Hermione replied. "After all, as your wife, it's expected of me."

"Right," the Headmistress said, getting up and heading toward the door that led out to her office. "Come on then."

"Um...Minerva?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Perhaps we should dress first…"

Minerva looked down at herself and blushed deeply. "Oh."

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><p><em>Dressed<em>, and feeling a bit less fluttered, Minerva entered the Great Hall with her young bride at her side. She'd not told anyone who she was set to marry; only that she'd be away from Hogwarts last evening to meet her future partner. She _may_ have made that remark with a bit of a scathing tone, which was probably why none of them, even her ever nosy best friend, Poppy, had dared inquire who had agreed to marry her.

"Good morning, everyone,"

"Morning…" came a varieties of murmurs. No one was looking at her, and Minerva knew it. They were all looking at Hermione, recently graduated star pupil, now the newly wedded McGonagall, who they were each aware would be providing heirs for their boss. The shock would pass, Minerva knew.

And pass it did. One day turned into two, and then the days quickly added up to a week. She and Hermione settled into a routine. They'd contacted a realtor, and would be going to look at a few houses in or around Hogsmeade this weekend. During the days when Minerva had Hogwarts duties to tend to, Hermione was either in muggle London, working, or left the castle for some other, unknown destination. A part of Minerva wondered if Hermione was seeing someone else; they had not so much as kissed since the morning after the wedding. Granted, this was a forced marriage, and even if her young wife did have another lover, Minerva found she couldn't begrudge such a thing. If she'd been seeing someone special herself when the marriage law passed, she, personally, would have set them aside and hoped to reunite after the arrangement was nullified, but she was not young anymore, and she was not so foolish as to think that someone young and beautiful such as Hermione didn't have plenty of offers.

Meanwhile, with their days occupied with their own business, evenings were their time together. Hermione had admitted that, much like Minerva, she prefered a quiet evening with a book, or a game of chess with a friend, rather than to go out on the town as most of her peers would. On the note of peers, neither Harry nor Ronald had returned from their respective elopements; Hermione speculated that marriages entered into with love included honeymoons. Harry could afford to take however long off of work to spend with his fire-haired bride, and Ronald had probably used a chunk of his Order of Merlin stipend to do the same with his new wife. Hermione would have to wait till they returned to tell them about her own marriage.

"Minerva…"

The Headmistress was pulled from her thoughts by Hermione. It was Friday night; they'd already played a few rounds of chess, and had each settled into armchairs in front of a roaring fire. "Yes, Hermione?"

"We need to shag."

"I beg your pardon?!" Minerva squeaked, surprised at the very blunt way her young wife had brought up the topic of their lack of progress toward _marital duty._

"We need to have sex," Hermione said patiently. "Shag, screw, fuck...pick a word, but we need to do it. I'm supposed to start ovulating in two days, and I'd really rather not get knocked up the first time we _do it_."

"Why not?"

"Well, as it happens, I _like_ having sex," the younger woman said smugly. "And if I know you, you'll only have sex with me for as long as it takes to get me pregnant, and I'd really like it to be more than that."

Minerva huffed. "I like sex too!"

"Do you, now?"

"Of course!" Minerva exclaimed, indignant. "I _love_ having sex. I'm bloody _great_ in bed!"

The look on Hermione's face, as if she was trying not to laugh, was infuriating. Just because she wasn't some hot young thing didn't mean that she couldn't...preform. Oh, she was not going to jump Hermione tonight, because at this point, she was exhausted from a week full of the chaos that was Hogwarts life. Tomorrow morning would be busy with picking out a cottage for them to share; to be _home_ to their children to be. Tomorrow evening, she thought to herself. Yes, she'd shag the living daylights out of Hermione Granger tomorrow night, and that little swot wouldn't know what hit her.

"You know what?" Minerva said as a giggle managed to escape Hermione's lip. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight. Crazy witch…"

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Well this fic is way more popular than I expected. I hope it continues to live up to your expectations. Thank you all SO much for your support! Enjoy chapter five!**

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><p>"Hermione?"<p>

The brunette looked back at her wife. "It's perfect," she said, referring to the cottage that she'd been wandering around silently for the last fifteen minutes. "Absolutely perfect."

"So we can buy this one?" Minerva asked, looking relieved.

Hermione nodded, throwing an apologetic look the Headmistress' way. This was the eighth house they'd been in, and the realtor had only shown them this one as a last ditch resort. It needed a lot of work, but the young woman didn't mind. Most of it was cosmetic, and as she and Minerva had already agreed (after arguing loudly for nearly an hour), that as soon as they got confirmation that Hermione was pregnant, she would hand in her notice at work. Minerva's family money was no small amount, so the younger woman had no real need to bring in an income while she carried, and then began the process of raising their children.

The cottage had four bedrooms, and two baths. One bedroom would be be theirs, another an office for Hermione to make use of, and the other two would be for the children. Hermione thought, especially if they had twins, that the children could share a room, leaving the forth bedroom for guests. After the divorce, Hermione would be keeping the cottage, and during the time the children were with Minerva, they'd get a room up at the school. Merlin knew that Hogwarts was not short on space.

Basics aside, the cottage was a brick, two story place, and boasted of a matching brick wall which surrounded the large yard, and a large iron gate for entry. The wall was covered with decades worth of moss and vines, showing the property's age. Other than the bedrooms and bathrooms, the cottage had a semi finished attic which Hermione knew she could turn into a variety of things. It also had a large kitchen, a fairly good sized dining area, and a covered porch.

Hermione turned to the realtor. "You mentioned that the place needed work, and from what I can see it's mostly cosmetic. What's the roof like?"

"Roof was just replaced last year, Mrs. McGonagall," the tall, lanky man with extremely white teeth repled.

The younger woman couldn't help but notice Minerva smiling at how the man had addressed her. The very notion that _she_ was married to the Headmistress of Hogwarts was enough to send her reeling. Granted, it had only been a week. After taunting Minerva last evening, bringing up sex like she had, she expected that tonight they would be consummating their marriage. It wouldn't be here - there was too much to be done before moving in, but Minerva's bedroom in the Head's suite would be fine. She couldn't help but wonder what the older witch would be like in the sack.

"Then yes," Hermione nodded. "We'll take it."

Both the realtor and Minerva sighed in relief at her agreement, and she didn't hide the chuckle that escaped her lips in response.

"I'll contact Gringotts as soon as we return to Hogwarts," Minerva stated, and the man nodded. He knew the stately House of McGonagall did not want for money.

"Harry and Ron will be home tomorrow," Hermione said as they moved to leave the cottage. "I'll recruit them to help me get this place livable, as you'll be busy with the school."

"As you wish, my dear," Minerva replied. "If you have need of any materials, I'll let Griphook know that you are welcome to use whatever funds you deem necessary."

Hermione's cheshire grin appeared on her face. If there was one good thing about whom she'd been forced to marry, it was that she could get her dream home out of the deal without going into debt up to her arse.

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><p>Minerva watched as Hermione made for the bathroom, having just decided to take a shower prior to going to bed. She'd been waiting for this. A few minutes later, Minerva stripped naked, and quietly let herself into the now steam filled room. She said nothing as she approached the large, tiled, walk in shower stall. Cat like as ever, she opened the glass door, the breeze alerting the younger woman to her presence.<p>

"Do you mind?!" Hermione screeched, moving to cover herself with her arms.

"No, I don't think I do," the elder witch smirked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"Mi-minerva?" the soaked and soapy brunette questioned.

Long, ebony locks unbound, Minerva ignored the look of shock on Hermione's face, and stepped into the spray, wetting down her hair, and running her hands over her very naked body with a soft moan.

"Uh...uh…" Hermione stuttered.

"Like what you see?" Minerva asked, glancing over at her young wife and seeing that despite still trying to cover herself, Hermione's jaw was slack and her chest was rising and falling at a far more rapid rate.

"Um…yea?"

Minerva's arm darted forward, grabbing the younger woman by the arm and pulling her close, pressing their breasts together as she gently squeezed Hermione's tight little arse. "Like what you feel?" she whispered.

Hermione groaned in response, her own hands now daring to roam, running up Minerva's sides and around her back. Gently, the younger witch let her fingernails scratch at the soft, milky skin under her hands. Minerva groaned. _Gods, that feels good_, she thought.

The two toyed with each other for several minutes, learning each others' bodies with deliberate care, each trying to find erogenous zones. There were plenty to be found.

"Want you…" Minerva murmured as Hermione ran her finger just inside her slit.

"Take me," Hermione answered confidently. "_Wife_."

Minerva wasted no more time. "Bed," she insisted, nonverbally turning off the shower stream, and casting drying charms on each of their bodies. Hermione grabbed her wand from the bathroom sink as soon as they existed the shower, casting a spell that would both dry and comb both of their hair. The elder witch usually did that bit the muggle way, but she wasn't about to chastise Hermione for that _now_.

A few moments later, Minerva lifted Hermione onto the large canopy bed and pushed her legs apart. Her tongue darted forward quickly, and she hissed happily as her mouth began to fill with Hermione's taste, and her nose was overwhelmed by a wondrous smell.

The younger woman moaned at each stroke of her wife's talented tongue. By the time Minerva decided that Hermione was _ready_, she was nearly shaking in anticipation. With a deep breath, the Headmistress cast a spell on herself that would change her anatomy to suit the desire for reproduction. It was doubtful Hermione would get pregnant tonight - possible but not probable - and yet, Minerva felt a deep need to be inside her former student.

"Have you ever…?" Minerva asked gently, not wanting to hurt the younger woman.

"Yeah, Viktor," Hermione panted. "Just fuck me, damnit!"

With a mental note to hex Viktor Krum if she ever saw him again, Minerva's focus returned to the activity at hand. One long, smooth thrust later, she was buried inside Hermione, slick, hot walls shuddering around her. "Oh, gods…" she moaned. "You feel…"

"So good…" Hermione agreed, wrapping her legs around her wife's waist. "Come on, Min. Move!"

Emerald eyes sparkled, not in the slightest perturbed about being told what to do in this instance. She pulled back, and then thrust forward again, and ever a minute she found a steady rhythm that seemed to please Hermione greatly.

Their bodies ground together, breast on breast, pelvis to pelvis; after a bit Hermione pulled Minerva's lips to hers and demanded entry with her tongue. "Please…" the younger witch begged.

A few minutes later, with a final, hard thrust, Minerva orgasmed, filling Hermione's core as she also came, clenching tightly to her partner's anatomy. A few moments passed as Minerva found her bearings, and lifted her body off Hermione's. With a flick of her wand, retrieved from the bedside table, her anatomy returned to normal, and she moved to the other side of the bed, crawling under the covers, facing away from the woman she'd just has sex with. She couldn't look at Hermione now; because sex without emotion had never been her forte, and she couldn't bear the thought of falling in love with this beautiful woman, and a year from now, having nothing to show for it but a child or two who would grow up in a broken home. She would perpetuate her line with Hermione Granger, for the sake of the wizarding world needing the population growth, but she could not let her heart get involved.

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><p><strong>Reviews make me type faster!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**I am bending to the will of the fans. Here, my dear readers, is an update for what you have all nicknamed "Lines". Enjoy! **

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><p>Hermione didn't sleep much that night. A few hours, perhaps, but her mind was far too preoccupied with how Minerva had seduced her, shagged her utterly senseless, and then turned away and not said a word. She would never have expect that the stoic Headmistress was the type to screw and not have emotion involved at all, but apparently she was. Rustling next to her alerted Hermione that Minerva had awoken. "Good morning," she said softly.<p>

Minerva stiffened, and as if by reflex pulled the covers tightly around her still naked body. She said nothing for a minute, and then much to Hermione's surprise, found a way to completely sidestep talking about the fact that they'd had sex. "We better get up and get ready to go, if we're to meet Misters Potter and Weasley in time for brunch."

"Of course," Hermione muttered, trying not to show the confusion in her voice. If Minerva didn't want to talk about, then the younger witch supposed that they simply wouldn't. This relationship was not based on love; she should have known better than to expect anything other than cold detachment from the older woman.

The two showered separately, dressed privately, and overall behaved as if not only did they _not_ have sex the night prior, but as if they had no relationship of any sort, let alone that they were married. Hell, for all Hermione knew, she could be pregnant right this minute with Minerva's child.

They'd risen late, so by the time they were ready to leave it was nearly ten thirty, giving them just enough time to stop by Filius' office and remind him they were going to be out of the castle for a few hours, before they needed to head down to the Three Broomsticks, where Harry and Ron were expecting to meet the third of their now legendary trio. "You don't have to come today," Hermione commented as they reached the path that led down to Hogsmeade.

"You did not shy away from greeting colleagues as _my _wife," Minerva replied, offering a gentle smile. "And thus, I shall not shy away from meeting your friends as yours."

"Alright," Hermione nodded. "Let's go then."

They walked in silence, mostly. As they walked past the Whomping Willow, Minerva mentioned Remus, and they shared some memories of the now dead werewolf. Hermione told Minerva that her former Professor had looked at Minerva like a mother, and Minerva said that Remus had once admitted to have taken a fancy to Hermione.

Before long, they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, and with a sigh, Hermione pushed the door open and stepped inside. Harry and Ron were already there, looking anxious as they sat waiting at one of the far tables.

"Hermione!" Harry called.

"Hey 'Mione!" Ron greeted with a smile. Then, his grin faltered when he saw the Headmistress following behind his best friend. He glanced over at Harry, whose own face had gone slightly pale, and mouthed, "McGonagall?"

"Harry, Ron," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I believe you both know Minerva."

The boys gawked at her. Harry found his tongue again first, and taking a deep breath he stood and stepped forward, pulling Hermione into a hug, and then much to everyone's surprise, pulling Minerva into a firm, albeit awkward hug as well. "Welcome to the family, Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Minerva said tenderly, returning the embrace. "Though I do think that unless you intend to start addressing Hermione as _Mrs. McGonagall_, it would be far simpler to call me _Minerva._"

"Right, of course," he said, blushing. "Might take a bit of getting used to."

"Hey, Minerva," Ron greeted. He didn't go so far as _hugging_ his former Professor, but greeting her by name was enough for Hermione. It really did make her happy that both the boys had found it in their hearts to accept that their best friend was now married to the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"So, Hermione," Harry said, pointing at the table, indicating the other three should join him in taking a seat. "You living up at the castle now?"

"For the moment," she replied, "Though Minerva and I bought a cottage here in Hogsmeade which will become the primary residence for us, once it's all fixed up."

"Need some help with that bit?" Ron asked, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "The fixing up of the cottage."

"Hermione was hoping you boys would be available to give her a hand," Minerva stated. "As I have a school to run, my availability will be limited."

"Totally understandable," Harry noted. "And sure, we'll give her a hand. I'm sure Arthur, Ginny, and George would also be able to spare some time."

"Maybe Bill as well," Ron agreed. "Also, Pretty Boy could come get his hands dirty for a change."

"Pretty boy?" Minerva asked.

"Draco," all three young adults chorused.

"Ah…" the older witch nodded, understanding.

Hermione and Minerva remained and chatted with Harry and Ron for another hour, talking mostly about what needed done to the cottage, though Ron did have the audacity to inquire if they'd shagged yet, and Harry had wanted to know how many calming draughts they had each consumed so far in their marriage, as a means of putting off their respective tempers. Minerva had wanted to hex Harry for his comment (Hermione _had_ hexed Ron for his.), but Hermione had elbowed her and said that it wasn't such a bad idea - to keep calming draughts stocked in the medicine cabinet for when one or both of their tempers seemed to be getting the better of them.

As they made their way back towards Hogwarts at half past noon, there was silence, much as there had been on the way down to Hogsmeade, though this time, Hermione had felt that it was a comforting one. There was something decidedly serine about walking hand in hand with her wife, after having discussed how to go about putting their future home to rights. Now, Hermione mused, if only they could manage to find that same serenity in their relationship.

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